


Answers and Questions

by SirenRobbin



Series: WildWeek2020 [6]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: A Wilde Week 2020 (Rusty Quill Gaming), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:14:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27682046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirenRobbin/pseuds/SirenRobbin
Summary: Something's wrong with Zolf and Oscar is set on figuring it out, hopefully before he loses Zolf to himself.
Relationships: Zolf Smith & Oscar Wilde
Series: WildWeek2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020723
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Answers and Questions

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So much to write and so little time! I actually have a lot of ideas to add on to this story. If anyone's interested in seeing a second chapter please just let me know in the comments. Like always, if I'm missing any tags please let me know!  
> Day 6:  
>  **Betrayal/Loyalty** /Blood

It started with little things. 

Reports of new raids getting closer and closer to the inn, the emergency food stockpile expanding, more border patrols and guarded exits. Then those little things grew. Zolf demanded Currie send someone to place wards over the inn, protection symbols carved into every doorway and window sill. He even set booby-traps in every lock and entrance, making it challenging to move around. Then he made his last move. 

Zolf, with no food, water, clothes or even books, locked himself in the cellar behind the magic-proof warding and sat down, throwing the key far out of his reach. 

It had been 3 days for Oscar since Zolf had locked himself away; he bet it felt longer for Zolf. However, he could never ask, for anytime he tried, brought food, amenities, anything; Zolf would sit and stare at the wall. Oscar was getting desperate, his best friend sat alone in a cell, waiting to die, and he could do nothing. 

Three days, it's been three days. Zolf needs to drink, or else he'll be dead by morning. But how, why? There are so many questions, and Oscar has none of the answers. So he decides to do what he should have done when this all started. 

Oscar walked down towards the cellar, a lantern clutched in one hand and a pitcher of water in the other. He opens the door slowly, peeking in, looking about for the room's inhabitant. He doesn't have to look far. Zolf slouches on the floor in the middle of the cell, eyes clenched shut, giving the illusion of troubled slumber. His shallow breaths giving away his awakened state. Oscar steps in, locking the door behind him with an echoing click. He takes a step, waiting for a reaction, then another and another as Zolf's shuddering body stills. With a clunk followed by another click, Oscar swings the door open wide and walks inside. 

He carefully places the lantern down, followed carefully by the pitcher. He shuffles down until he's sitting cross-legged across from Zolf. 

"Cozy place you have here, Mr. Smith. Can I interest you in a business transaction?" 

"Go away, Wild." Zolf's voice is as cracked as his lips, his body continuing to tremble as he slowly sits up. It's achingly slow, his muscles giving out several times before he succeeds. It takes everything Wild has not to catch him after every failed attempt. Instead, Wild digs his teeth into his lip, waiting for Zolf. 

"Mister Smith, I have a proposition. I will answer any question of yours if you answer any of mine. Tit for tat, as they say." 

"Who's they and why such a stupid saying." 

"I presume they would be the Meritocrats, maybe something older. Now for my question-" 

"Aye! I didn't agree to anything!" 

"Then you shouldn't have asked me a question." Zolf goes quiet, refusing to look Wild in the eye. With a sigh, Wild tries to get Zolf's attention. 

"Or we can just sit down here forever, wasting away as the sunsets. Would you like a reenactment of some of my writing? Some people find it exhilarating." Wild starts to stand until Zolf's hand shoots out and grabs Wild's shirt. 

"Sit, you damned theatre kid." 

"Okay," Wild carefully sits back down and waits for Zolf. 

"Ugh, okay, name your question." 

"Let's start with... where is the best place you've ever eaten?" There's a long pause as Zolf stares in confusion at Wild. 

"Huh, thought you'd go with something more... imminent. Well, uh, probably the food we got at the hotel in Paris, that was pretty good lobster. Sasha quite liked it too." 

"Wish I had gotten to try some. Unfortunately, someone refused to let me stay longer than 5 minutes while we were there. Wild gives Zolf a soft glare. 

"Hey, you were the one being a prick! I was just taking out the trash." Zolf lets out a crackling laugh, the noise quickly dying off as he looks Wild over. 

"Please, Wild. Just ask your question." 

"Zolf," Wild looks into Zolf's eyes and almost stops; the pain in Zolf's eyes scream at Wild. "What's going on with you?" 

"Oscar, um..." Zolf looks at his hands; then, with a deep sigh, pulls his sleeves up. Deep blue lines trace up his arm in a horrifying picture. Wild feels his breath catch. 

"Oscar, I've been compromised."


End file.
